A Sword Named Shadow
by harari24
Summary: Damned in the repeating and watchful trap called fate, a young Breton woman loses control of her own feelings and forgets of her loved ones. Her siblings, her friends...she forgets that she loved them all. And it all wouldn't have ever happened if she had just left that sword where she had found it. Oblivion fanfic, contains OCs.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Hello. My name is harari24. _A Sword Named Shadow_ is my first Elder Scrolls fanfiction.

This is an Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion fanfic, following the Main Quest, the Thieves Guild (not that much), the Mage's Guild, the Fighter's Guild, and an eventual, original arc.

This prologue is a test on its reception.

Now, I've kept you long enough. Go on ahead and read.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. All I own are the original characters. And the arc that will become the main focus in the future. Enjoy.

* * *

**A**** Sword Named Shadow**

**Prologue  
**

_The whereabouts of one called a hero, the thoughts of another destined to become involved, and the fate of a cursed soul..._

* * *

One hit with Sunder, five with Keening, and Wraithguard to wield them. That was all it took to finish it all. That was all he needed to do to end Morrowind's plight.

Well, that, and to get the hell off of Akulakhan to make sure that it was, indeed, finished.

Which it was, thank the Nine, but still...

Those events, however, were a long time ago. The Nerevarine wasn't even in Morrowind anymore. He left about five years after the end of the Blight, the slaying of Almalexia with Trueflame, and the Bloodmoon prophecy.

So where was he? According to rumors, he apparently "went on an expedition to Akavir and has not been heard from since." A different continent, rife with snake-like people that have had an eternal hatred for mankind. Surely, he _must_ be dead!

Alas, that is not the case. The Nerevarine is very much alive, healthy, and most certainly not in Akavir. Those are what they are. Rumors. In fact, they're rumors that he himself started.

It was a simple endeavor, really. He was only escaping. He just wanted his fate to be forgotten, his name, his actions...all he wanted to do was to leave it behind. Starting a rumor to direct the attention of those who revered him somewhere else was the perfect distraction. Now, after years of being referred to with the title of a prophesied hero, he would be called by his actual name once more.

Everything was back to normal, and Ansgar could now return to Whiterun in secret and peace.

At least, everything should have been back to normal. But it wasn't, since the hobbies of fate include turning around and biting significant people in the ass. By the time he reached Cyrodiil, more of his destiny would be revealed by certain events.

The Nord would find himself in the Imperial City Prison again, caught in events that would dub him a hero once more.

* * *

Bravil. Similar to any other city in Cyrodiil, having inns, homes, beggars, and stores within city walls. Perhaps the only true distinctions between Bravil and any other city (excluding the Imperial City, of course, since it's different from _all_ of the cities.) is the higher rate of petty crime, the river underneath that acts as a sewer, and the fact that it is home to the Skooma Den, whose inhabitants would be more than happy to unknowingly disturb you in their drug-addled state of mind. (A good example would be not putting the bottle down while engaging you in conversation.) These are very notable distinctions and it is only natural that many would dislike it, including (but not to anyone's surprise) Alessia Ottus, the author of the well-known guidebooks to each city in Cyrodiil.

To put it simply, Bravil could be classified as "the ghetto of Cyrodiil."

But there were also people in Bravil who just didn't care about it enough to really have an opinion on the matter. Among these people was a Dunmer thief (holds the rank of Footpad in the Guild) and savant by the name of Iveru Sarys, who was currently reading a book on the second floor of her house, which, mind you, _didn't even belong to her. _Upon receiving the key to the house, her friend informed her that it had belonged to a now deceased Bosmer.

Really, the only reason that the Dunmer even lived here was because her friend's family was here. Well, that and there was another Doyen here, but that was beside the point. Her friend did, after all, get her the house that she was now living in. In her friend's absence, the Dunmer "took care" of her younger siblings, if lending them money could be considered as "taking care" of them.

Speaking of her siblings...

"Iveru, we've been wondering for a while. Where did Lys go?"

The Dunmer looked away from her book at the two, the teenager being half-Nord and half-Breton, and the child half-Bosmer and half-Breton."When did you two get here? Your house is on the other side of Bravil!" she exclaimed.

Neither of the two responded to her question and Iveru sighed before closing her book and putting it down. "In all honesty, I really don't know where she went. I'm sure she's okay, Eiruki. And Lielle, it's almost midnight...Eiruki, why isn't she asleep?"

Eiruki, the one who is part-Nord, sighed and sat down on a crate in the corner of the room, swinging her legs back and forth as she sat. "She refuses to go to sleep whenever I tell her to. I don't get why she only listens to Lys."

"Lysara is basically Lielle's mother. It's only understandable. Besides...you have to be the big girl while Lysara is gone. Problems like these are bound to happen."

"She wasn't arrested, was she? I mean, if the Imperial City Guards found out that she was Listener..."

"I'm pretty sure she wasn't...at least, for that reason. I don't know. I plan on going there soon. You know, Thieves' Guild business and stuff." Iveru stated as she stood up and opened the door to "her" room. Ambling over to the front of the bed, she knelt down and began rummaging through a chest, removing from it an Elven bow, almost 100 steel arrows, leather armor, and a silver dagger.

There was no harm in putting the armor on in front of them. After all, Eiruki wasn't even looking and Lielle had seemingly passed out on the table at some point during the conversation.

After closing the chest, Iveru stood up and made her way to the sack next to the cupboard. After going through its contents, she produced a medium-sized coin purse and gave it to a yawning Eiruki. "Here. This ought'a cover you for a week. Both of you should head back now. I'm locking the place up."

Eiruki quickly took the purse, lifted a sleeping Lielle onto her back, and gave her a piggyback ride to the front of "Iveru's" house. Iveru followed them outside, and the door was soon locked up.

"I'll see if I can get any info on Lysara. Check with either S'Krivva, Luciana, Cosmus, or Aia in a few days. If I found her, they will know. Both of you, be careful while I'm gone, okay?" the Dunmer stated with a hint of worry. They were like family to her, too.

Eiruki nodded and Lielle just slept on. "You be careful as well, Iveru. It's a long walk that you're about to do."

"You know me. I always make it out alive, even if it kills me!"

Eiruki simply raised an eyebrow at this before smiling. "Talos be with you." she whispered before turning left and disappearing behind the building.

Iveru stared at the direction where the two siblings left before silently making her way to the city gates. Pressing on large doors, she heaved them open, stepping into the Nibenay Valley with only one thought in mind:

_Lysara, did something happen to you?_

* * *

Vindasel. How many know of its past uses? Few, if any, one would assume. Of course, the lack of knowledge on the matter is justified. After all, the Men, Mer, and Beastfolk of now aren't directly affected by it, anyway. But perhaps their views would change if they knew what it used for long ago. How would they react if they found out that it was once used by the Ayleids as a torture chamber for disobedient slaves?

Of course, this was back in the First Era, many, many centuries ago. After the Slave Rebellion in the Third Century, Vindasel went to ruin, like all of the others. Most of the Ayleids were gone, exiled if not massacred. It didn't have anyone to use it for its original purposes.

There wasn't much in the Ayleid ruin. Several unreasonably over-sized rats inhabited it, just like any old piece of architecture that managed to survive and still have a door. However, the noticeable lack of undead roaming the ruins would have certainly raised questions.

If there were any in the past, they were definitely gone. After all, there was someone among the living who now took refuge in the Ayleid ruin: a Bosmer clad in ebony armor who found it more fitting to wallow in regret than to repent and start over. In her past, she learned from one, challenged much, and killed too many. She lives in Vindasel only to prevent more deaths from occurring. Of course, should the need arise, the Bosmer was ready to defend herself.

Which was exactly the case just a few moments ago. Someone had entered the ruins, accidentally setting off both traps in the ruins. The person's voice could be heard throughout the halls, yelling as they attacked the rats. It wasn't long before the person finally reached the room that the Bosmer was in.

The person was a female Breton. Judging by the Breton's shocked expression, she was not expecting to see the Bosmer. A few seconds passed, but that was enough for the Breton's attention to shift from the Bosmer to the Bosmer's sword.

_Once again, someone is caught in its net, never to escape its demands._

"Neat sword you got there." the Breton said. She did not know of the sword, the Bosmer, or the truth, but the sword called to her. It was not long before the Breton unsheathed her own sword, engaging the Bosmer in an epic battle.

A time passed as they both fought with all they could. But now, the regretful Bosmer lay at the feet of the Breton woman. The Breton only wore measly Iron armor, not even a full set since she was missing a helmet, yet she had defeated the Bosmer so brutally, so easily, so...magnificently. In a way, the Bosmer was relieved. Someone had finally bested her in battle. After years of killing unreasonably, the Bosmer was happy with this Breton.

It was now that she noticed the Breton bending down to pick up her own sword, casting aside her iron shortsword in the process. That sword...the dark blade that had stolen so many lives in the past, bounding their souls from Aetherius to be eternally damned in the realm of Clavicus Vile...it was now in possession of the Breton. The said Breton stared down at the blade with a look that the Bosmer could not quite describe. What she did know was that something in the Breton changed the moment her hand grasped the sword's hilt, whether or not the Breton was aware of it. Something in the Breton went dark.

"Breton..." the Bosmer whispered out without realizing it. Said woman turned to the Bosmer who lay on the ground before her. "Thank you..."

The Breton nodded silently without expression before turning on her heel and making her way to the doorway of the spacious room. She stopped where she was when the Bosmer called out again, "Wait..."

The Breton turned around. "You...you should...g-get rid of t-the sword..." the Bosmer breathed out, the pain of speaking beginning to cloud her vision. Raising and eyebrow at her words, the Breton turned around fully to face the dying figure. "G-give it back t-to...C-Clavicus Vile...b-before it's...too late...before...you're caught in too deep..."

The Breton knelt to make eye contact with the Bosmer a bit easier. "Hey..." the Breton began, "what's your name?"

The Bosmer was taken aback at her question. "U-Umb-"

"Your _real_ name."

"...L-Lenwin." she replied weakly. Her vision refocused itself momentarily, showing the Breton saying something else.

But the Bosmer couldn't hear her.

She couldn't feel.

She couldn't move.

She couldn't understand.

All she knew now was a cold yet peaceful darkness, forcing her vision to fade into nothingness.

* * *

Author's Note:

Okay, I'm going to be honest: I sort of rushed this prologue. I really wanted to put this up, but the first part of it was proving to be a huge bitch. Therefore, I just put some words in the first part and put it up. I do like the other two parts, though...

The prologue was meant to be rather uninformative. If you want some explanation on when some of the events happened or other things, just say so in the review. I will put it at the end of the next chapter if anyone asks for it. I seriously doubt you would want any explanation, but just in case...

There's also a pretty good chance that the next chapter will be shorter and will suck in comparison to this.

More info on the story and character(s) will be up on my profile later. Be sure to check in a while, maybe a day if there's any delay.

Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know.

Now to come up with a reason why Ansgar and Lysara are in prison...


	2. Excruciating Pain

Author's Note: Hello again! This is harari24 with the next installment of _A Sword Named Shadow._

When I post, I usually answer some people's reviews, if I can. That said, thanks to the following people who reviewed:

...

Exactly.

I really hope I get some reviews. They taste good.

Oh, well. Here you go, Chapter 1!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. Enjoy.

* * *

**A Sword Named Shadow**

**Chapter 1:**

**Excruciating Pain  
**

_Two heroes with humble beginnings, a strange meeting to each other, and an encounter that puts destiny in motion.  
_

* * *

Lysara was feeling terrible, even before she was suddenly elbowed in the stomach today. She couldn't have felt more angry with herself than she did now. In fact, she couldn't stop thinking about it. She had been pacing her tiny cell, wallowing in her thoughts, occasionally speaking them.

"Clumsy, just clumsy!" she exclaimed once more. If there were any guards there, they would have definitely taken her for a madwoman.

It was pathetic, in her opinion. She should never have decided to actually do the contract. She was the Listener, and her job was to tell Arquen of the contracts, not do one of them!

_But it was just one contract_, Lysara thought, _and it sounded easy!_

The contract required the death of some traveling Altmer. A racist Altmer. Apparently, his little comments had rendered someone to praying for his death. When the Night Mother told her of this contract, she just felt like not telling Arquen about it.

It should have been an easy kill. It was, in fact. She followed the Altmer after he left Faregyl Inn and eventually finished him off. When she did that, however, she found herself on the roads outside of the Imperial City and in front of two Imperial City Guards on horses.

She halted her pacing. "That's probably where I screwed up." she stated in both realization and frustration.

She collapsed on the ground of her cell, face down, in exhaustion, ignoring the state of its cleanliness. Or lack thereof. Rolling onto her back, she closed her eyes, desperately listening for a new sound. She envisioned herself outside again, surrounded by fresh air and grass. She saw herself in Bravil, which didn't feel as fresh as her first vision, but still meant something. She noticed her two sisters standing next to her, smiling at her with pride.

But when a familiar dark sword invaded her thoughts, she shook her head and pushed it to the back of her mind. _Not now_, she thought, _don't think about it now. _In an attempt to recreate her earlier thoughts, she closed her eyes once more.

She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was woken up in a really rude way.

It just happened. She wasn't sure what happened when it happened, but the next thing she knew, all of the air inside her was immediately knocked out when an Imperial City Guard threw a new and nearly unconscious prisoner onto her, the prisoner's elbow colliding with her stomach..

"UAAGH!" she yelled. The newcomer lifted his head after a few moments before silently swearing.

_Get off_, she exclaimed in her mind, _get the hell off of me! _Honestly, if this man did not get off of her, the pain she just experienced would eventually force her to vomit on him.

"GET OFF!" she finally yelled out. The man, who had not expected a voice to screech in his ear at full volume, hurriedly got off and backed into the metal bars of the cell. Lysara rolled onto her side, whimpering and clutching her stomach. She had never wanted to cry more than she did now. She still felt like vomiting, and damn, it seemed tempting to do so on the new prisoner.

When she finally managed to sit up without bile threatening to leave her throat, she turned her head to see a middle-aged Nord man staring back at her in shock. A few wrinkles adorned his face and his hair was mix of light brown and gray. Lysara could only assume that this man was in his forties or so.

"A-are you okay?" the man asked incredulously.

She shot him a look of disbelief. "Do I look okay?"

"I'm sorry!" he yelled out.

A little surprised by his loud apology, she responded quickly. "I-it's fine! I just didn't expect to get elbowed today, that's all."

"I'm...sorry about that."

"Again, it's fine. I'm okay. You just caught me off-guard."

"Sor-"

"SHUT UP!" she bellowed. "Gods, you're annoying!"

"I'm sor-"

"Don't you dare apologize again or I'm going to throw this pitcher at you!" she screeched out, grabbing a ceramic pitcher from the small wooden table and waving it around in the air.

After a few moments, he sat against the bars, looking rather bored.

"Hey, Nord..." Lysara stated. The man turned to her. "What's your name?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if wondering if it was safe to tell her, before ultimately speaking up, "...Ansgar."

"No clan?"

"I have a title...I just don't like using it."

"Well, what is it?"

"Don't laugh...it's Ansgar the Apologetic."

Short moments passed. Lysara is also a jerk. "Pfft-"

It was a miracle that not a single guard ran down to see what the hell was going on. She was laughing way too hard for it not to be noticed. "That's the name a beggar would have!"

"...sorry." Ansgar stated quietly. He only had a few seconds to dive out of the way so that the ceramic pitcher thrown at him wouldn't shatter in his face.

"Stop apologizing." she threatened darkly. "It's annoying."

"Sor-" he began, but she hissed at him before he could finish.

They sat in silence. A rather awkward one at that. Lysara soon broke it.

"Lysara. Lysara Geontene." she murmured as she extended a hand. Ansgar stared at her, confused, until he realized she told him her name. After shaking her hand, he turned away and fell asleep.

* * *

For Lysara, the next day was starting out great. For one thing, she woke up in an unusually good mood. The pain in her stomach was gone, and Ansgar hadn't apologized yet.

Something just felt so right about today. But she couldn't ignore a feeling that she had in the back of her head that kept screaming about something really bad coming up.

A few hours later, Ansgar apologized for almost stepping on her and she threw the ceramic cup at him, thus ending Lysara's happy feeling. She just sat against the wall with her arms crossed, a few feet away from the metal bars of the cell.

She had almost fallen asleep when Ansgar shook her.

"Huh, wha? Ansgar, what the hell?" she asked in annoyance.

"Sorry I had to wake you." he began, unknowingly pissing Lysara off. "But I think someone's coming."

"What?" she stated. She stood up and walked towards the cell door. He was right. She could hear people coming. The first voice she heard was a woman's voice. "Baurus! Lock that door behind us!" the voice ordered from down the hall.

"Yessir." a male voice responded. She could only presume that this was Baurus.

"My sons...they're dead, aren't they?" another male voice asked. It had an older, gentler yet gloomy sound to it. Out of the corner of her eye, Lysara saw Ansgar perk up slightly, as if he recognized the voice.

"We don't know that, Sire. The messenger only said they were attacked." the female voice responded.

"No, they're dead. I know it."

"My job right now is to get you to safety." the female voice said again as a male Imperial and a female Breton stopped in front of the cell. Their armor was different than that of a prison guard, so they were most likely a sort of bodyguard. The armor was a steel gray accented with gold. The helmet, the same steel gray, covered most of the head, the nose, and cheekbones. The part covering the nose looked like a golden snake. "What are these prisoners doing here? This cell is supposed to be off-limits."

The Imperial turned to the Breton. "Uh, usual mix up with the watch. I..." he stammered before the woman cut him off.

"Never mind. Get that gate open. " she demanded before turning to Lysara and Ansgar. "Both of you, stand back. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."

Lysara simply stared back before slowly making her way to the corner of the cell. She stopped to nudge Ansgar, who stood in his place staring at the two bodyguards.

"Hey, Nord. Let's go." she whispered as the cell door opened and the bodyguards made their way inside. Lysara walked to the corner and leaned against the wall, folding her arms.

It was now that she took notice of the elderly man that followed them . He wore elegant robes and had a strangely regal air to him, yet he held a melancholic expression. Ansgar suddenly walked over to him and knelt before him, much to the bodyguards' dismay.

"Sire." he said respectfully. The older man gazed at him before a smile appeared on his face, and something resembling gaiety momentarily shone in his gray eyes.

"Ansgar. So good to see you, old friend. How are you?"

The said nord stood up and took a few noticeable glances at the cell before replying. "I honestly could be doing much better."

One of the bodyguards began advancing on Ansgar, but the robed man lifted a hand to calm them. "It's alright. He is one of your own."

"This man is a Blade? What's he doing in jail?"

"It's...a long story that I don't want to talk about." Ansgar responded to the Blade's question.

"I did not expect to see you here, for I know that you are no criminal. Whatever charges against you are most definitely wrong. You are pardoned, as such I will need you once more." the Emperor said.

Before Ansgar could ask what he meant, another voice interjected. "No sign of pursuit, sir." the voice said, being directed at the female bodyguard.

"Good. Let's go. We're not out of this yet." she said as they began walking towards the end of the cell. It was then that the Emperor suddenly stopped. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Lysara.

"You...I've seen you..." he said slowly, before walking up to Lysara. "Let me your face..."

Lysara raised an eyebrow at him before shrugging and pushing away from the wall. She took a step towards him before he spoke once more.

"You are the one from my dreams...then the stars were right, and this is the day. Gods give me strength." he said sadly.

"Er...care to explain?" an extremely confused Lysara asked in a slightly rude tone.

The Emperor didn't seem to notice or care about the tone. "Assassins attacked my sons, and I am next." he began. "My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell."

"Who are you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question. It just felt right. She wasn't sure why, but it just did.

"I am your emperor, Uriel Septim. By the grace of the Gods, I serve Tamriel as her ruler. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and you, too, shall serve her in your own way."

"Well, why my cell? Why was the escape route through here, the cell of a murderer?" she asked.

"Perhaps the Gods have led us here so that we may meet." the Emperor replied. "As for what you have done to end up here...it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for."

Lysara narrowed her eyes at the mere idea of divine intervention. "I go my own way."

"So do we all. But what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by the almighty Gods?" he said in reply.

Lysara nodded in acknowledgment to his answer. It was his opinion. She wouldn't disrespect that.

"Please, sire, we must keep moving." the female body guard said as she walked over to the wall that Lysara was facing. She pushed one of the bricks and suddenly, the stone slab that lined the bottom of the wall lowered and the majority of the wall itself slowly swung open, dust escaping. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at the new hole in the wall with contempt. _How come I didn't notice that?  
_

The female Breton bodyguard began to walk towards the hole. "Better not close this one. There's no way to open it from the other side." she continued through the hole, followed by the Emperor, Ansgar, the Imperial, and the Redguard.

"Looks like this is your lucky day. Just stay out of our way." the Redguard named Baurus said to Lysara.

She stared at the hole in surprise. It just seemed too good, and impossible, to be true. Pinching her right cheek and realizing that it hurt, she sauntered after the group.

* * *

Author's Note:

This chapter was actually already done before I started typing up the prologue. I only now changed most of it, leading to what we have now.

Since nobody reviewed, I don't have to explain the prologue. Yay!

I thought that whole 'apologizing-over-and-over-again' bit with Ansgar was lame. Wouldn't you agree?

In my opinion, the story sucks right now. If you agree, then I promise you, it WILL GET BETTER!

Since I do not have the second chapter prematurely typed up, expect the next update to be a while. I also have a school project coming up, so I'll be really busy. Check my profile for any updates on my own status, as well as the second chapter's status.

And yes, Dreth is not there. He's dead.

Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know.


	3. Death of a Dragon, Resuscitation of Hope

Author's Note: I'm back! This time, I have the second chapter (if you ignore the prologue) of _A Sword Named Shadow._

Thanks to the following people who reviewed:

...

Just like what I said last chapter, exactly.

Come on, just ONE review? That's all I ask! Please? Oh, whatever...

Now, now, don't let me keep you with my pleas. Go on and read!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. Enjoy.

* * *

**A Sword Named Shadow**

**Chapter 2:**

**Death of a Dragon, Resuscitation of Hope  
**

_Failure is an option that they have been forced to choose, but a path to salvation shall redeem they who regret.  
_

* * *

It wasn't long before the strange ensemble of bodyguards, a bodyguard-turned-prisoner, an Emperor, and a murderer were attacked by what Lysara could only assume were the assassins that the Emperor spoke of, which, if the context of the situation was right, _shouldn't_ have happened.

In all honesty, Lysara did want to help kill the assassins. However, she was unarmed and really sucked at hand-to-hand combat. Ansgar, too, had no weapon, but he was simply punching the armored assassins. Quite a few fell.

First, the woman, whom Lysara soon found out was Captain Renault, was the first to be struck down. Then, the assassins followed her, falling to the ground one by one. Only Lysara, Ansgar, Baurus, the other Blade named Glenroy, and the Emperor were left standing.

"Are you alright, Sire? We're clear, for now." Baurus stated after striking down the assassins. Glenroy had wandered ahead slightly, scanning for more assassins, and both Ansgar and Lysara were a few feet away from the Redguard.

"Captain Renault?" the Emperor asked, already knowing the outcome.

"She's dead." Baurus answered solemnly. "I'm sorry, Sire, but we have to keep moving."

The Emperor nodded and followed Baurus and Glenroy. Lysara began to follow suit when she noticed Ansgar walking over to the Renault's corpse.

"Nord, let's go." she called out.

"Sorry, hang on." he responded, taking the dead woman's torch, steel shortsword, and Akaviri Katana. He went on to check the assassins' bodies, but found nothing of particular use. He stood up and walked over to Lysara.

"Damn, their weapons and armor were summoned..." he said as he handed her the steel shortsword. Lysara took the sword almost happily.

"Conjuration...pah, weak bastards." she responded, attaching the sword to her hip.

She began walking away before stopping and shooting Ansgar an annoyed look. "Let's go, Nord. We're losing daylight!" she yelled before running on ahead. The Nord complied and soon, both of them had caught up to the group.

"How could they be waiting for us here?" Glenroy asked incredulously.

"Don't know. But it's too late to go back now." Baurus responded. He turned to the Emperor. "Don't worry, sire, we will get you out of here. They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades."

Ansgar walked on ahead while Lysara stayed at the tail of the group. They reached a metal doorway and Glenroy spoke up. "I'll take point. Let's move." he stated, unlocking the door and walking through, followed by Ansgar.

The Emperor turned to Lysara. "Here you must find your own path. But we will cross paths before the end, I am sure of it." he stated before following Ansgar through the door.

"...what?" she asked, her question sounding more like an annoyed statement than anything.

"You stay here, prisoner. Don't try to follow us." Baurus told her before following the rest of the group through the door, locking it behind him.

Lysara just stood there, unsure of what to do. She then punched the wall out of fury. "The bastards just left me here? They take Ansgar with them, but not me?" she asked. Moments after that, part of the opposite wall fell down, two rats emerging and jumping straight for her.

"Oh, shut up. I don't have time to deal with you." she told the rats in annoyance before striking them down very quickly.

When she was finished, she looked at the hole with curiosity. "Hm...I wonder..." she stated. Perhaps it was another way out, the second coincidence today. She traipsed through the opening, her sword still unsheathed.

* * *

She emerged from the other end of the cave, exhausted as all freaking hell. On her person was her steel shortsword, a Rusty Iron War Axe for Ansgar (he seemed like someone who preferred blunt weapons. Besides, he gave her the sword), a tad bit of gold, a couple of jewels, a Goblin Shaman Staff, lockpicks, and a set of rusty Iron armor (excluding gauntlets, boots, and helmet.)

Seriously, why in all of Oblivion was there a zombie down there? Sure, a couple of rats were understandable, predictable even. But a zombie?

"Bah!" she exclaimed.

"What was that?" she heard a voice, most likely Glenroy's, say from up ahead. In a panic, Lysara sauntered to the corner and listened.

"I don't know..." another voice stated. She recognized it as Ansgar's. "But we need to be on our guard."

"Let me take a look around..." Baurus responded. His footsteps walking around could be heard.

The Emperor's voice sounded. "Have you seen the prisoner?" he asked.

Baurus responded to his question. "Do you think she followed us? How could she?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she did. I did hear something after we left her back there. She either found another way or got killed." Ansgar stated. Lysara honestly wasn't sure how to take what he just said.

"I know she found her way." the Emperor said.

"Sire, I'm sorry, but we should get moving now. If we wait here, more of them will come." Ansgar told the Emperor after a few seconds.

"Not yet. Let me rest a moment longer."

Lysara emerged from her hiding spot and jumped over the ledge, landing in front of the remaining group. She straightened up to see that Glenroy had unsheathed his katana and was approaching her.

"Dammit, it's that prisoner again! Kill her, she might be working with the assassins!" he yelled.

Lysara could see the Emperor raising a hand to stop him. "No. She is not one of them. She can help us. She must help us." he said calmly.

"As you wish, Sire."

Lysara stood in place, staring at the group cautiously. Maybe she could-

"Come closer," the Emperor interrupted her thoughts. "I'd prefer not to have to shout."

Carefully, Lysara walked towards him, stopping in front of him.

"They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen. How can I explain?" he began. "Listen. You know the Nine? How They guide our fates with an invisible hand?" he asked her.

Lysara thought for a moment before responding, "I wouldn't know. I serve a different deity."

He didn't seem affected by her answer. "I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign." he explained. "I know these stars well, and I wonder...which sign marked your birth?"

Lysara had to think for a moment. She never thought about these things. "The Lady. I was born in Heartfire." she eventually responded.

"The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come." The Emperor told her.

"Sire, don't say that! We will get you out of here!" Ansgar exclaimed, interrupting the conversation. Both the Emperor and Lysara ignored him.

"Well, what about me?" she asked.

The Emperor smiled. "Your stars are not mine. Today, the Lady shall fortify you in your quest for glory."

"Can you see my fate?" she continued.

"My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death." he began. "But in your face, I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied."

"Wait, aren't you afraid to die?" she asked. Most of the marks she had killed in the past were terrified, which is why she wondered now if he was, since he was so certain that he would be killed by the assassins down here today.

"No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well and my ghost shall rest easy." he stated. "Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this, I am blessed to see the hour of my death...to face my apportioned fate, then fall."

"...where are we going, then?" she asked.

"I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me yet for a while, then we must part." he finished before following Glenroy.

Baurus walked up to Lysara. "You may as well make yourself useful. Here, carry this torch and stick close." he said, handing her the said torch. She took it, but instead of using it, she cast a simple Starlight spell and caught up with the rest of the group. Ansgar walked up to Lysara.

"Oh, I just remembered. Here." she said, handing him the rusty Iron War Axe.

Ansgar took it gratefully. "For someone born under the Lady, you're rather mean and intolerant." Ansgar quipped as they walked.

"Really, you say that to me after I give you something?" Lysara asked in annoyance.

"Well, it's rusty."

"So? Look at my armor! This is the crap that's supposed to be defending me!" she yelled in a sort of defiant way.

Their arguing was forcefully halted when the group was ambushed again.

* * *

"Hold up." Glenroy stated after the group emerged from the other room. "I don't like this. Let me take a look." he continued before going on ahead of the group.

Lysara chose to follow him while Ansgar and Baurus stayed back with the Emperor. A few moments passed until Lysara turned back to them and nodded. Glenroy gestured for them to follow. "It's clear. Come on. We're almost through to the sewers."

The group walked over to the iron grating that was the gate. Glenroy tried it, but when it couldn't open, he immediately unsheathed his sword.

"Dammit! The gate is barred from the other side! A trap!" he yelled.

_It's an iron grating_, Lysara thought, _wouldn't you be able to just **reach in** and lift the bar?_

Baurus interrupted her train of thought. "What about that side passage back there?"

"Worth a try. Let's go!" Glenroy answered.

The group walked to the passage with caution. All but the Emperor had their weapons out. They all entered the room to find...

A dead end. _Dammit_, Lysara thought, her caution rising ever so slightly.

"It's a dead end. What's your call, sir?" Baurus asked Glenroy.

"They're behind us! Wait here, Sire!"

"Lysara!" Ansgar called, running up to her. Said woman turned around to face him. "Stay here with the Emperor. Sorry, but I'm trusting you to protect him!" he said before running off.

"For the Emperor!" he yelled with the other two Blades, running out of the passage to deal with the assassins.

"Wait, what?" she yelled, extremely unsure of what to do. She cast a glance at the Emperor, then to the opening that the Blades ran through, then back to the Emperor before shrugging it off and launching a Flare spell at an assassin that managed to get past Glenroy, Baurus, and Ansgar.

She continued this, occasionally switching to a Dispel Other spell and then striking down the assassin. Now, Lysara leaned against her sword, panting heavily.

The Emperor suddenly walked up to her with a sort of accepting expression. "My guards are strong and true, but even the might of the Blades cannot stand against the Power that rises to destroy us. The Prince of Destruction awakes, born anew in blood and fire. These cutthroats are but his mortal pawns." he told her. "Take my Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. I have a secret son, and Jauffre alone knows where to find him."

"Your Amulet? Then this is 'Goodbye'?" she asked.

"This is where my journey ends. For you though, the road is long and dangerous. But I warn you: be wary of your actions, as events shall come where they shall determine your fate. Now, give me your hand." he said, taking her hand and placing the red jewel in it, folding her fingers over it to protect it.

"...I'll take it from here." she said, squeezing the Amulet slightly.

"Then go. As this burden is now yours to carry, you will not be alone. But you hold our future in your hands." he told her. "Find the last of my blood, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion!"

All of it happened too fast: the back wall lowered, an assassin emerged, and an Emperor fell. It was all too much to take in and there was not nearly enough time to do so. The assassin who struck the Emperor down turned to Lysara and went for her. "Stranger, you chose a bad day to take up with the cause of the Septims." the assassin said, conjuring up a dagger.

Moments after, the same assassin lay at Lysara's feet, the said woman standing in place with a look of shock and confusion. In her right hand was her sword, covered in fresh blood, and in the left, the Amulet of Kings.

Baurus ran into the room, took a glance at the now deceased Emperor, and his eyes immediately held grief. "Talos save us...we've failed. I've failed...the Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead..." he said sadly.

Then, Ansgar entered the room, holding Glenroy's katana, but immediately looked downcast after laying eyes upon the Emperor. "Damn it...DAMN IT!" he yelled, punching the wall. It was now that he took notice of something else. "...where's the Amulet?"

The two Blades turned to Lysara, who outstretched her left hand and opened it, revealing the red gem that was the Amulet of Kings.

"Strange. He saw something in you. Trusted you. They say it's the Dragon Blood that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men." Baurus said. "The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry. The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of the Blood can wear it, they say."

"Did the Emperor say why he was giving the Amulet to you?" Ansgar questioned Lysara.

"He said that I needed to take it to someone named Jauffre."

Ansgar turned to Baurus. "Who's Jauffre?"

Baurus ignored his question. "Jauffre? He said that? Why?" Baurus asked.

She looked up at the two, her eyes holding a serious glint with a newly found confidence. "He knows of another heir."

* * *

Author's Note:

Wow, I actually finished typing this chapter up, even though I only started it yesterday night! I'm so proud of me!

I didn't really proofread this chapter, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know.

There is a small chance that Chapter Three may be put up soon. I have to type it up, first.

Word of Warning: Chapter Three isn't really focused of the Main Quest. If anything, it's filler and a bit of the Thieves Guild. I'll start the Main Questline back up in Chapter Four.

Second Word of Warning: there might be a flashback in the next chapter that is purely for the purpose of joking around. I don't know, I might do it. Just putting it out there.

Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know.


	4. Why do you smell like sewers?

Author's Note: Hello, bestest buddies in the world! Here we are with the next installment of _A Sword Named Shadow_!

Okay, this is a really, _reeaally_ long chapter, and it isn't even all that important. This is a little less than twice the word count of the prologue. Seriously, it's just filler and Thieves' Guild.

Also, in this chapter, I kinda dumb down the intelligence level of Imperial City Guards. Sorry about that.

Oh, and I also skew the way in which Charm spells actually work. Again, sorry about that.

Reviews to answer(!):

akai hana-shiroi hana(Prologue): Yay, my first review(er)! Well, I'm not surprised that you know what might happen. Practically everyone knows of the item it concerns. Oh, well! I'm so glad you like it!

akai hana-shiroi hana(Chapter 1): You know what, I never actually thought that detail through. I might bring it up in these Author's Notes in the future. The whole "eventually-lose-the-overapologizing" thing seems like a good idea, since I'm not too fond of the whole detail. I just might implement that! I'm so glad you like this story!

akai hana-shiroi hana(Chapter 2): Yes. Yes, they are. Thank you for noticing. I will use her as a vent on occasion. There is one more situation like that in this chapter. I'm sorry if it annoys you in the future. But thank you for reviewing and I hope you keep reading this story.

Come on, peoples! Don't force her(or him. I don't know your gender.) to do all of the reviewing! Reviews taste good!

Well, I'm done talking for now. Go read!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. Enjoy.

* * *

**A Sword Named Shadow**

**Chapter 3:**

**"Why do you smell like sewers?"  
**

_The dawning sun once again blinds they who are free, calling for the purposeful delay of a possibly world-saving journey._

* * *

Lake Rumare's undulating surface reflected the light mercilessly into Lysara's vision, leaving a blur of green and red after-images imbued in her sight. The painfully blinding scene before her made Lysara so happy, she had to use most of her strength to resist the urge to suddenly strip and jump into the lake in joy.

"Thank Sithis I'm finally out of there!" she exclaimed as she stretched. After the Emperor's assassination, a verbal quarrel with Baurus (it was one-sided; Lysara was doing all of the yelling) after he regretably assumed that she was an experienced _Bard_, and a bit of traversing through the sewers, at one point falling into the murky and disgusting "water," she was relieved and wanted to do nothing more than to pass out.

Ansgar slowly emerged from the sewers after her, a look of exhaustion and slight depression on his face.

Ignoring the possibility of a bath in the lake itself, Lysara began the trek along the outside of the Imperial City Walls, intending to go all the way to the Waterfront District. She stopped after a few steps and turned around, noting that Ansgar had not followed her.

"So, do you intend to follow me?" she asked.

The Nord nodded, his expression never changing.

"Well, you better cheer up. I'm not gonna drag you around if you're moping all the time. It's annoying." Lysara stated bluntly.

The Nord looked up, appearing to be angry. "What, did you not see what happened back there? We lost an Emperor!"

The Breton raised an eyebrow. "I know we lost an Emperor. I'm not stupid."

"So you don't feel any remorse whatsoever?" he asked angrily. The Breton shrugged uncaringly.

"Damn it, Lysara!" he exclaimed, startling her. "How could you not feel anything after all of that? How!"

Lysara stared back at Ansgar, who had walked over to the shores of Lake Rumare and sat down, refusing to look at her. She sighed in annoyance before sitting down next to him.

"Listen," she began. Ansgar glanced at her. "I know that you're in mourning, I get that. You were close to the Emperor, after all. But everyone can mourn. And as people who mourn, it is our job to move on." she explained calmly.

Ansgar stared at her, in case she was not done talking.

"So, what I'm saying is, you have to move on. I'm sure he wouldn't want you moping around like a depressed Skooma Addict when he gave us a mission, after all. For his sake, let's finish it." she told him before standing up.

The Nord stared back at her before nodding and standing up.

"Well, let's go. Wouldn't want to die for stalling this mission. Let's head to the Waterfront District. My house and all of my crap are there." she said as she began walking around the walls of the Imperial City, with Ansgar following her. She stopped suddenly and turned to him. "Oh, but during the course of our mission, don't be surprised if I leave you behind during battle if you turn out to be sword or magic fodder." she stated bluntly.

Ansgar nodded before following her again, who had broken into a run.

They ran alongside the walls and reached the Chestnut Handy Stables, where Lysara immediately stopped in her tracks, not even slowing down. She just stopped in place, forcing Ansgar to suddenly veer to the left, going around her so that neither of them would end up rolling down the steep road that they now stood on. She turned and ran into the stables, running around horses that didn't belong to her, until she reached a familiar horse.

When Ansgar laid eyes upon it, he broke into a cold sweat. "What in the..."

Before him was a horse as black as a starless night. A strong horse, with distinctive _glowing_ crimson eyes. It turned to him and stared. It took all of his strength to not pull out his rusty Iron War Axe and strike it down. Then again, could it even be struck down?

"Shadowmere!" Lysara exclaimed, running to the horse and throwing her arms around its neck.

The horse neighed and nudged her playfully before neighing again (sounding rather disgusted) and taking a few steps back. Lysara just stared at the horse. "Yes, I know. I smell like sewers. There's nothing I can do about it. Here, I'll make it up to you by getting you a nice wolf to eat later." she explained to it. The horse neighed happily in agreement.

"W-what is that thing?" Ansgar asked.

Lysara turned to him. "This is my horse, Shadowmere." she told him before continuing in the direction of the Waterfront district. "Oh, and if you want to come with me to Weynon Priory later, you'll need a horse of your own."

* * *

The first thing they encountered the moment they got to the Waterfront District were dozens of Imperial City Guards just running all over the place like a bunch of drunk troll bait, stupidly asking _each other_ questions that they should have been asking citizens, if anyone for the sake of professionalism.

"Have you seen Armand Christophe?"

"Can you tell me where Armand Christophe is hiding?"

"What the hell happened?" Ansgar quipped immediately.

"I don't know...but I know exactly who to ask." Lysara responded, her voice sounding annoyed. She began wandering around the district, Ansgar following her, feeling confused, before she finally found who she was looking for. It was a dark-haired Dunmer wearing leather armor and looking around frantically.

"What the hell?" Lysara asked her from behind with a pissed smile.

The Dunmer spun around in shock before sighing. "Don't scare me like that! I'm not exactly in a situation where I can be casual!"

The Breton simply shrugged.

The Dunmer stared at the Breton, unimpressed before smiling and embracing her. "Thank Azura you're here, Lys! Have you see-" she began before suddenly pushing her away from the embrace. "Sweet androgynous ass of Boethia! Why do you smell like sewers!"

"It's a long story." the Breton stated.

"Uh, okay then." the Dunmer replied, her nose scrunching up ever so slightly. "Anyway, have you seen Methredhel or anyone else from the guild?"

"All of them are back there around the houses. And I think Methredhel was looking for you." Lysara responded. She followed the Dunmer as said Dunmer power-walked to the crappy cabins. "Iveru, it would really help if you caught me up on everything right now."

"It would help me if you explained everything to me right now!" a voice interjected from behind the two women. They turned around to see Ansgar looking rather frustrated.

Lysara sighed. "That's right, I forgot about you. Ansgar the Apologetic..." She began. Cue the notable snickers from the Dunmer Thief. "This is Iveru Sarys, a friend of mine. Iveru, this is Ansgar, a moron."

"Hi there!" Iveru stated happily, leaning forward before straightening up immediately, a disgusted look on her face. "Normally, I would go all flirtatious on your hide, but you smell like sewers."

"So I've been told."

"What are you talking about?" Lysara exclaimed. "This is the first time today that anyone has expressed that sort of sentiment to you!"

"Hey, I was just playing along! I thought the comment she said to you was directed at both of us!" Ansgar answered.

Lysara sighed again. "Well, whatever. I don't really care anymore." She turned to Iveru. "What happened? Why are all of these guards looking for Christophe?" she began before a clearly bored and unimpressed look crossed her face. "...what did you do, Iveru?"

"Nothing! That's the thing! All I did was a special job that Armand gave me and then this happens! I'm just as uninformed about all of this as you are, Lys!"

"Well, what was the job?" she continued, the two of them leaving Ansgar out of the conversation.

"I was to steal a bust." Iveru answered simply.

"Which was...?"

Iveru was silent for a moment. "...the bust of Llathasa Indar-"

"You desecrated a deceased Countess's tomb?" Lysara asked, something terrible making itself known in her voice.

"I-uh...I-"

"A _recently_ deceased Countess's tomb?" she emphasized. Ansgar began backing away from the scene.

"..."

"Gods' Blood, that is so horribly sacrilegious!" the Breton yelled out, eyes as wide as plates. "I'm the assassin _and_ dungeon diver, yet _I'm_ the one who thinks that as terrible?"

"You're an assassin?" Ansgar questioned.

"Not now, Ansgar." Lysara told him. She turned to Iveru. "Seriously, what were you thinking?"

"It was a job! I had no choice! Besides, the possibly haunted Undercroft of the Great Chapel of Arkay is the least of my problems right now! Where in all Oblivion is Methredhel?" she yelled out, frustrated.

As if on cue, the said brunette Bosmer ran up to Iveru, a look of exhaustion and worry on her face. "Thank goodness I found you!" she exclaimed before pulling the group aside to a more secluded area. One with no guards. "I assume you know that Hieronymus Lex has issued an arrest warrant for Armand Christophe?"

"Oh, I know all right." Iveru stated, glancing at the Imperial City Guards running around up ahead. _Troll bait_, she thought. "Where is the Doyen?"

"He is in hiding. Armand is accused of stealing the bust of Llathasa Indarys from Cheydinhal. They say Count Indarys himself filed the charges!" Methredhel informed.

"Well, what about the bust?" Iveru whispered, just so the Guards didn't hear her.

"There never was a client that commissioned the Guild to steal Llathasa's bust." Methredhel stated. "Armand used you to flush out an informant that infiltrated the Guild."

"An informant whose name is..." Iveru drawled, waiting for Methredhel to "fill in the blank."

That she did, that she did. "Myvryna Arano." she stated with contempt. "Now Armand needs your help to neutralize her. You are going to pin the theft of the bust on Myvryna. She lives here in the Waterfront."

"So, what I need to do is..." the Dunmer drawled again, waiting for the Bosmer's answer.

Methredhel smiled at her silliness as she answered. "Plant the bust in her cupboard. Make sure she doesn't see you. Then, go tell Hieronymus Lex that she is the thief." she told her before leaving.

"Iveru..." a voice began. It belonged to Lysara. "There's a really good chance that the Guard Captain won't believe you."

"I know." Iveru responded before spinning around, a mischievous smile adorning her face. "But that's what you're here for!"

"...what?" Lysara asked, her question sounding more like a statement than anything.

The Dunmer winked at her. "I'll go reverse-steal the bust into Arano's cupboard. When I exit her house, put your most convincing "Responsible Citizen" face and rat her out. Just make it so that he'll check."

"By reverse-steal, you mean plant. And why do I have to do it? He's not going to believe me!" the Breton exclaimed. She then pointed at the Nord behind her, who, in turn, looked at her in confusion. "And this guy wouldn't do any better!" she yelled.

Iveru raised an eyebrow. "What dictates that either of you will fail?"

"Hm...well, there's the obvious fact that we both smell like sewers, which you so kindly pointed out just moments ago!"

Iveru shook her head, frustrated. "Oh, fine! I'll do it, you lazy piece of-"

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all!"

Lysara kept staring at Iveru suspiciously before shrugging. "We'll be waiting right here. Hurry it up now!"

Iveru smirked at the Breton before jogging to Myvryna Arano's house. Making sure that no guards could see her, she pulled out a distinctive black-handled lockpick and inserted it into the lock. _A three tumbler lock_, Iveru thought. After a bit of playing around with the lock, a recognizable click was heard, the Dunmer sighing in relief. Once again making sure that no guards could see her, she opened the door slowly.

* * *

"Have you seen Armand Christophe?"

"No, sir. Please don't hurt me." Lysara responded flatly to the Imperial City Guard. The man simply nodded and continued on his way. The Breton turned when she saw the door of Myvryna Arano's house open.

"You sure took your sweet time." Lysara commented when Iveru emerged from the house.

"Where's Lex?" Iveru asked. Ansgar pointed her in the direction of the Guard Captain, whom she began walking towards. "Give me a hand here, Lys!" she shot over her shoulder. The Breton nodded before firing a "Seductive Charm" spell at the Captain.

She approached him and he turned to her, frustrated. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm in the middle of an investigation?" he asked.

Iveru, who wore a surprisingly convincing worried expression, acted as though she were paranoid by looking around when she spoke. "I, uh, I heard about something, and I-I think it's right to tell you directly." she murmured.

"Well?"

"Y-you are searching for a bust, r-right?"

"You know where the bust is hidden?" he asked, surprised.

Iveru nodded. "I heard that Myvryna Arano has it."

"Are you sure? That can't be right. She's my..." he began, almost saying something he would regret. "I mean, she doesn't seem to be the type."

"I believe it's in her cupboard." Iveru responded before suddenly turning away, covering her mouth. _Damn, did I just reveal myself?_

Hieronymus Lex glared at the _innocent_ Dunmer before speaking. "I don't believe you, but I'll have to check it out anyway. If you are right, there will be hell to pay. You will have to come along."

Iveru nodded as she followed the Captain into Myvryna's home.

* * *

When the door opened again, out came a pissed Hieronymus Lex, a defeated and angered Myvryna Arano, and a satisfied Iveru Sarys.

"What're you so happy about? Ansgar and I were the ones who stood in place for a good hour or so." Lysara spat distastefully. Iveru shrugged as they began walking to another cabin, the one that belonged to both Iveru and Lysara.

"You live together?" Ansgar asked the two women incredulously. The two shot each other a look before launching the same look at the Nord.

"What? No!" Iveru yelled.

"It's not like that. We only both live here because it's at a convenient location. I swear, we are not _living together_, much less sleep in the same bed at the same time." Lysara stated before opening the door to the cabin.

"Well, except that one time during winter when-" Iveru began when another hand suddenly covered her mouth. It belonged to Lysara.

"We did _not_ sleep together." she said slowly.

"Alright, then..." Ansgar responded, doubtful.

The three entered the little cabin and immediately found themselves without much room to move around. Stuck between the sitting area, the table, the bed, the cupboard, and a dozen of a dozen books piled carelessly and hastily on top of one another, none of them moved and barely breathed. In the fireplace, another book sat there, burning. If one were to look at the words on its spine, they would read A History of Lock Picking.

"Hey, one of the books fell into the fireplace." Ansgar pointed out.

"Yeah...fell into." Iveru stated, her eyes shifting from side to side. She then sighed and brought up an unrelated topic. "Dammit, I knew we shouldn't have purchased the sitting area!"

Lysara shrugged. "Hey, that was your mistake. I warned you against it, I said it was a bad idea, but _nooo_." Lysara drawled mockingly.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

"It's weird; we usually fit in here." the Breton said. The two stood in place, thinking, before they both turned to their new guest. "Ansgar..."

"Please get out..." Iveru warned gently.

"What?"

"Leave..._now_." Lysara threatened. Ansgar raised his arms in defense before backing out of the shack, shutting the door. Lysara sauntered to the chest near the corner of the room and opened it. Iveru leaned against the cupboard.

"So...Eiruki and Lielle were asking for you." she stated. Lysara straightened up upon hearing that.

"Did they now? When was this?" she asked as she reached into the chest and took out a set of Iron Armor (plus gauntlets) that were in a much better state than the one she was currently wearing.

"A couple of days ago. Two days after you disappeared." the Dunmer answered, turning to the cupboard and opening it before quickly (and suspiciously) shutting it.

"You did leave them money before you left, right?" the Breton asked, beginning to remove the set of Rusty Iron Armor. The Dunmer turned away from her before answering.

"Of course I did. I'm not an idiot, Lys." she replied snobbishly.

Lysara snorted in an arrogant doubt. "Yeah, yeah." she said, putting on the better Iron cuirass, greaves, and boots. After she did that, she sat up straight. "When you opened the cupboard just now...was there any food?"

"No matter. So you actually went to prison?" Iveru asked, dodging Lysara's question.

The Breton glared at her. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Well..."

"You've given all of it to beggars, haven't you?" the Breton asked. Iveru had nothing to say. "Exactly."

"...Back to my question. You actually went to prison, didn't you?" Iveru asked, turning back around while Lysara put on Iron Gauntlets.

"Yeah, I did. It was a stupid mistake of mine." the Breton nodded before rummaging through the chest again.

"I was under the assumption that you were heading to Cheydinhal for...you know, the Brotherhood." the Dunmer questioned.

"Well, yes and no. Yes, I was bound for the Cheydinhal Sanctuary but no, I planned on doing something else beforehand." she explained as she pulled out the Blade of Woe and attached it to her belt.

"Which was...?"

"...Iveru, I haven't done an actual contract in months!" the Breton complained.

Iveru shook her head. "Oh, Lysara!"

"Yeah, I know. I was clumsy. Shut up." said woman spat before pulling out a lumpy satchel out of nowhere. She rummaged through it, producing a Goblin Shaman Staff, which didn't proportionally match the satchel's size.

"Here, a present for you." Lysara stated, handing Iveru the Goblin Shaman staff.

The Dunmer thief stared at it, unimpressed, before giving Lysara an obviously fake smile. "Thank you for something that I will never use."

"Maybe it's worth something. Sell it to Ongar, say it's stolen." suggested Lysara.

"Yeah, like he'll think a staff that belonged to a Goblin was stolen. He's not the smartest of people, but even he would know that." Iveru informed her.

Lysara shrugged before rummaging through the satchel again. She removed the steel shortsword, but something else fell out when she did.  
It landed with a clattering sound, the fireplace reflected in the red gem.

Iveru stared at the Amulet of Kings that lay on the floor with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. She looked at Lysara before opening the door and calling Ansgar in.

* * *

"Really? So that's how you were able to escape from prison?" Iveru questioned a silently furious Lysara and an upset Ansgar. Lysara was sitting down at the table, Ansgar was leaning against the side of the doorway, and Iveru herself sat cross-legged on the bed.

They nodded simultaneously. "And it would be to your best interest that you didn't tell anyone about this or try to steal it from us." Lysara warned.

"What? Why can't I steal it?" Iveru asked, immediately regretting it, seeing that Lysara looked like she was just about ready to burn something down. "Okay, never mind. Forget I asked."

Lysara sighed, calming down slowly. "We don't know what will happen if we don't deliver this amulet to the right person. In fact, we plan on leaving later just to deliver it."

Ansgar turned to her. "What? But I don't have any armor! Or a decent weapon!" he exclaimed.

The Dunmer stood up. "Come on. I'll take you to the Market District." she told him as she pulled out a hefty coin purse. "I'll pay for the crap you need. I assume you didn't get much gold in the escape route."

He shook his head before standing. "Would it be okay?"

"Of course it would be okay!" Iveru answered, confused as to why he would ask that.

"After all, the majority of that coin purse, if not all of it, doesn't even belong to her." Lysara informed him.

"Hmph! So where will you go?" Iveru asked her.

"I'll stay here because I really don't feel like going with you." Lysara informed them.

The Dunmer shrugged. "Your loss." She began pushing the Nord out of the shack. "Let's go, Ansgar! First, we'll go The Best Defense, then Slash N' Smash, then you're gonna get a bath, and then..."

Soon, their voices were no longer within audible range, leaving Lysara to her thoughts. It was deliberate. She needed them to leave.

Quickly, she sat up from the chair at the table. Going over to the bed, she went on all fours and peered underneath. Lots of clutter obscured whatever she was looking for. She moved each piece of clutter out of the way until she found what she was looking for. Extending a hand, she reached in and pulled out a familiar dark blade.

Lysara stroked the edge gently before whispering out its name, "Umbra."

The Breton was honestly surprised that the Dunmer never knew of the sword's hiding place. Sighing, Lysara held the sword close, before she eventually hid it in the satchel.

* * *

The three met up not too long before dawn on the outskirts of Weye. Ansgar, now clad in a full set of Steel armor and with a Silver War Axe on his person, was the second person to arrive. Apparently, Lysara had arrived first; the steel shortsword and some sort of Ebony dagger on her left side, and an Iron shield on her left arm, all while riding Shadowmere. Iveru was taking a while, but it was justified since, after a bit of explaining from Lysara, she was stealing a horse from the Chestnut Handy Stables. When she did arrive, she was, much to Ansgar's surprise, not being chased by anyone.

"Here you go." she told him, handing him the horse's reins. It was a Chestnut horse, eager and healthy. "I named her Foxy. Do keep her alive."

"Foxy?" he questioned, staring at the Chestnut Horse as if it would tell him if it was okay with the name. Instead, it simply stared back curiously.

"You named a horse 'Foxy'?" Lysara questioned, raising a single eyebrow.

"Doesn't matter! I've seen a horse named 'Moonsugar.'" Iveru stated.

"Well, it's still better than 'Foxy'!" Lysara countered.

Iveru dodged the conversation. "Ansgar, just take the damn reins!" the Dunmer yelled.

Ansgar felt awkward with the horse's name, but he took the reins gratefully and thanked her. She simply nodded in response.

"Where are you going to go?" Lysara asked her. The Dunmer looked up.

"I'm heading back to Bravil. I receive jobs from S'Krivva now."

"I see. Tell them that I'm alright, okay?" Lysara requested. It took a few moments for Iveru to realize that she was referring to Eiruki and Lielle. She nodded.

"Be safe. There's no telling what's out there."

The Breton smiled at her before nodding. Turning to Ansgar, who just mounted his horse, she turned to face the outside world again. She nodded at him, and they both rode off into the distance.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oh, thank god I'm done with this chapter! This took way too long and it wasn't even as fun as the past chapters! Dammit!

The main story will be back on the roll in the next chapter. And, if I have this planned out right, other questlines will begin at around Chapter Six or Seven.

Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know.


	5. Of Monks, FearDriven Altmers, and Hell

**Author's Note:** Hello, fellow people! Here I have the next installment of _A Sword Named Shadow_.

If there are actually people still interested in this story, I am really sorry about the delay. It wasn't that I was busy, no. After all, school finished two weeks ago for me. (Yay! Two and a half months of doing nothing to go!) It's just that this chapter and I were not really...er, cooperating. Actually, no, that's an understatement. This chapter was an absolute bitch to write, I swear to god! I don't like it, and I honestly won't be surprised if you don't like it either! It sounds like I was stalling the story! That's not my intention, but it's starting to feel that way, too! Damn it all to hell!

Whoa...my chapters are getting huge. I didn't think I would be able to make a chapter that was larger than the previous one, but I guess I was wrong! Damn!

I've been rereading these chapters, and I will tell you this now: there's a chance that I may or may not revamp some of the early chapters. What do you think?

**Reviews to Answer:**

as-sh: I was feeling rather proud of that line after I typed it! Thanks! Yeah, I tend to make my chapters sound like that, especially when I attempt to put comedy in it, to which I normally fail miserably. Thanks for reviewing!

Kathi With An I: I actually never noticed that I made it seem so specific, and I promise that I will find a way to work around that in the future! I am rather proud of how I told the Umbra quest, thank you! Actually, I'm rather upset with how Ansgar turned out. In fact, I have half a mind to rid of the guy, or at least change his personality. I'm not even sure why I put a Nerevarine character in. I haven't even played Morrowind yet! (Part of the reason for that is because our Xbox is hidden somewhere in our garage with all our other crap. The other part is because I don't even have the game.) Thanks for reviewing!

Now, now! Don't delay! Read today!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. I only own my OCs. Enjoy.

* * *

_**A Sword Named Shadow**_

**Chapter 4:**

**Of Monks, Fear-driven Altmers, and Hell  
**

_All that could be heard was the pained rumbling of the sky...and the cries of the once-living. _

* * *

They arrived at the Priory four and a half hours later. Had there not been so many distractions on the way there, it would have been two.

"Gods, that was probably the worst ride of my life!" Lysara complained as she got off of Shadowmere.

"Sorry." Ansgar apologized, dismounting his own horse.

"If it weren't for your blindingly and disgustingly shiny armor, we wouldn't have had so many bears and wolves attempting to bite off our asses!" the Breton yelled.

Ansgar turned to her. "There's no pleasing you, is there?"

Lysara glared at him before snorting and leading Shadowmere by the reins to the stables. Ansgar followed suit; bringing Foxy (he still didn't like the name) and handing the reins to a Dunmer named Eronor. The Nord followed Lysara into the Priory House.

* * *

Upon entering the Priory House, the two were approached by one of the monks, perhaps the Prior.

"Yes? Can I help you?" the Prior asked.

For some reason, neither of them spoke. Ansgar had been expecting Lysara to speak, but after turning to her and seeing that she was glancing at him, he found that she was expecting it the other way. Lysara now glared at him, as if she were trying to say _no-way-in-hell-am-I-talking-you-do-it-moron._

Ansgar turned back to the monk, who simply stood there, patiently awaiting an answer. "Er, we must speak with Jauffre..." Ansgar stated nervously. _Bravo..._, he thought sarcastically to himself.

"He's upstairs. Go ahead." the monk told him before continuing on with whatever he was doing beforehand. Ansgar turned to Lysara again, who shrugged in response.

Lysara and Ansgar went up the stairs and found another monk sitting at a table, reading.

_Is this Jauffre? This...old man is the Grandmaster of the Blades?_, Lysara thought as the two of them approached. When they stopped in front of the table, the monk closed the book and put it down.

"I'm Brother Jauffre. What do you want?" he asked the two of them. Again, neither of them spoke. Knowing that Lysara was once again shooting him a _no-way-in-hell-am-I-talking-you-do-it-moron_ glare, he spoke up.

"Uh, well, I'm Ansgar the Apologetic," he began, earning a snicker from the woman standing behind him. "And she's Lysara Geontene. The Emperor sent us to find you."

Jauffre's eyebrows rose slightly. "Emperor Uriel? Do you know something about his death?" he asked.

Without thinking, Ansgar answered. "We were there when he died." the Nord spoke before looking away with a shocked face, horrid realization in what he just said hitting him. Behind him, he could hear Lysara smacking her own forehead in frustration.

"You'd better explain yourselves," the monk told them warningly. "Now."

Lysara stepped forward, her forehead slightly red from smacking it too hard. "He gave me the Amulet of Kings and told me to bring it to you." she told him.

"You brought me the Amulet of Kings? This cannot be. Let me see it." he told her.

Lysara reached into her satchel, praying to every deity in existence and asking for proof that Iveru had not stolen it. Her hands grasped a familiar gem and she pulled it out. The Amulet of Kings. She handed the red gem to Jauffre.

"By the Nine! This IS the Amulet of Kings!" Jauffre exclaimed. He looked up at them, suspicion evident in his eyes. "Who are you? How did you get this? What do you know of the Emperor's death?"

The two of them looked at each other before they began explaining the events up to where they were now, excluding the whole event at the Waterfront District. Ansgar did most of the explaining while Lysara elaborated the events right before his death.

When they finished, Jauffre appeared to be deep in thought. _Oh, there's no way he's going to believe us_, Ansgar thought. After a moment, the monk looked up. "As unlikely as your story sounds, I believe you."

Ansgar stared back at him in awe. "...really?" he asked Jauffre in disbelief.

"Oh, yes. Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought the two of you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings." Jauffre told him.

"There's something I don't get." Lysara began. "What did the Emperor mean by "Close shut the jaws of Oblivion?" " she asked him.

"His meaning is unclear to me as well," he admitted. "The Emperor seemed to perceive some threat from the demonic world of Oblivion. The Prince of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon, is one of the lords of Oblivion." he told her.

_Thank Sithis it's the Prince of Destruction and not the King of Rape_, Lysara thought, shuddering before interrupting Jauffre. "Wait a minute, I thought Mundus was protected from Oblivion by magical barriers. How could it be a threat?"

"I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation. Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power." Jauffre informed. "When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark, for the first time in centuries."

"So the Dragonfires were what protected us?" Ansgar asked.

"Possibly."

"And only someone of the Septim line can relight it."

"I assume so."

"While we're on that note, we were told that there was another heir." Lysara said to him.

Jauffre nodded. "I am one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as captain of Uriel's bodyguards, the-"

"The Blades." Ansgar interrupted knowingly.

"One night, Uriel called me in to his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe." Jauffre continued. "He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time, he would ask about the child's progress."

"So this illegitimate son is the heir, now that all of the Emperor's other sons are dead." Ansgar responded solemnly.

Jauffre nodded again. "Yes. That is, if he yet lives."

Lysara spoke up. "So, where is the bastard?" she asked.

The other two, namely Ansgar, stared at her.

"What? There's truth to that claim!" she argued.

Ansgar opened his mouth, about to say something, before closing it because he simply did not care anymore.

Jauffre answered her question. "His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the Chapel in the city of Kvatch, south of here. You two must go to Kvatch and find him at once. If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger." he told them. They nodded and Jauffre spoke up once more. "And please, let me know if there's anything you need. My resources here are limited, but I will help in any way I can."

"Well..." Lysara began. "Do you happen to have any potions? Healing ones, to be specific? I used my only one earlier."

"By 'used my only one earlier', you mean smashed it on the ground in a fit of rage after Baurus asked you were an experienced Bard?" Ansgar asked, rewarded with a splendid right hook to the face.

Jauffre gave the two a questioning look, but spoke as if he didn't seem to mind. "I keep a few things here in my chest to resupply traveling Blades. Help yourself to whatever you need," he told Lysara before standing up and walking over to a chest on the side of the room. He unlocked it for them before walking back to the table and sitting down, opening his book again. The two walked over to the chest and opened it. Inside were weapons, two different sets of armor, potions (much to Lysara's delight), and a scroll.

After taking only the potions and the scroll, the two left the Prior House. Ansgar rubbed his left cheek, the same spot Lysara had punched him earlier, as they approached the stables.

"Ansgar, if we get attacked by more animals, I'm gonna slap you. No, punch you." Lysara stated seriously.

"Don't worry. I promise we won't get side-tracked by creatures and monsters anymore." he told her immediately.

"We better not...for your sake."

"I swear, we won't get side-tracked."

* * *

When they reached the Grateful Pass Stables, Lysara immediately got off of Shadowmere, grabbed Ansgar, threw him off of Foxy onto the ground, and punched him in the face before getting up and dusting herself off.

"What was all that about not getting side-tracked?" Lysara asked the Nord in contempt as he shakily stood up.

"...sorry." he apologized.

They didn't even reach Kvatch yet. The trip from the Priory to just Skingrad took a little longer than expected.

Well, maybe _a little_ is a tad bit of an understatement. But whether it was _a little longer_ or _unnecessarily long_, Lysara was pissed. Really pissed.

As in, really, really, really pissed.

"Let's see...we left for the Priory at around dawn, so six in the morning. We arrived at the Priory at around ten-thirty or so. We then left the Priory at twelve in the afternoon. And now, we arrive at Skingrad completely scathed at _eight_."

"...sorry."

"Ah, I'm not even finished yet! What creatures did you force us to deal with...oh! How about seven wolves, four black bears, two brown bears, a few Spriggans, thousands upon thousands of trolls, and a gods' forsaken rat! By Si-the Nine, we could have just ignored them!"

"...sorry."

Lysara groaned in frustration. "Well, whatever. I'm too tired to deal with your crap. I say we just check out for the night here in Skingrad."

"Are you certain? I mean, Kvatch isn't all that far from Skingrad, and-"

"Into. City. _Now_, Ansgar." she threatened.

The Nord grumbled as he followed the Breton into the city.

Skingrad could be described as a more...eccentric city. Sure, it seemed a boring city on the outside, what, with its dreary gray color palette and all. Though, the city does have very...er, _interesting_ stories and people within its walls.

Like how one of the alchemists is a necrophiliac.

"I'm okay with Skingrad." Lysara commented not long after they entered the city. "Pretty good wine here."

"Well, the two best known wineries in all of Cyrodiil are right outside of the city walls." Ansgar responded as they approached the Two Sisters Lodge. "Wait, why are we at the Two Sisters Lodge? Didn't we pass the West Weald Inn just now?"

The Breton turned to him. "How rich are you? A room costs 20 gold a night there. I don't have that much coin to spend, even if I do have the amount right now. I'll stick to cheaper places, thank you." she informed him, opening the door and not holding it open for him.

Lysara approached the innkeeper, an Orc named Mog gra-Mogakh, while Ansgar was forced to linger behind slightly when he was momentarily trapped in between the reinforced door and its frame.

"We need a room. Two would be very much preferred." Lysara requested.

"I can get you two rooms. It's 10 gold each." the Orc replied. Lysara handed the money to the Orc, followed by Ansgar. "They're upstairs. Your rooms are the first two doors you see when come out the door."

Lysara nodded as a thank-you and went up the stairs to the said door, followed by Ansgar.

"Here's what we'll do tomorrow..." Lysara began a few minutes after they put their crap away in their respective rooms. "Wake up at 7. At least try to. Meet me outside of the lodge at 8."

"8? Can't we stay a little longer here? I haven't really been here...at least, that often." Ansgar questioned.

"You wanna leave at 6? Because I can make you! We're leaving at 8 and that's final." Lysara threatened.

"Fine...just one hour?"

"...just go to sleep, Ansgar." Lysara told him, exhausted, before slamming the door to the Nord's room.

* * *

On the following day, the first thing that Lysara noticed when she met up with Ansgar outside the lodge was his black-and-blue face.

"Oh, my Gods, what happened to your face?" Lysara asked in shock.

Ansgar stared at her, not believing what she just asked. "...You punched me yesterday! Twice!"

"...really?" she followed up, trying hard to remember those events but failing.

Ansgar just shook his head, apparently giving up. "Really? That's just...wow."

"Shut it, Nord. I'll meet you at the stables in a few minutes. Gotta do something first." Lysara told him dismissively as she walked into the building next door to the lodge. What was it called? Salmo the Baker's House?

Ansgar simply stared in the direction she left in before shaking his head once more and making his way towards the gate.

When Lysara approached the stables, she could see Ansgar attempting to calm down one of the two horses there, his attempts futile when the angered horse knocked him over. Lysara ran and jumped over Ansgar to grab Shadowmere's reins.

"Calm. Please calm." she told the horse, who had been giving daunting looks at a mortified Foxy. "I don't mind if you kill him, but kill his horse, and you'll have to carry the both of us."

Ansgar glared at her for the comment she just made, but simply stood up.

Shadowmere stopped terrifying Foxy and turned its head, as if contemplating, before neighing in discontent and letting her owner lead her out of the stables. Ansgar, after a bit of difficult coaxing just to get Foxy out, followed her.

"Where the hell where you all this time?" Ansgar asked, annoyed.

Lysara shrugged. "I was only gone for ten minutes. And getting breakfast!" she exclaimed, tossing him something.

A sweetroll.

Ansgar looked up to see Lysara munching happily on a sweetroll. Hell, even Shadowmere and Foxy were munching on sweetrolls.

_Wait, when did the horses get sweetrolls?_, Ansgar thought to himself.

"How many did you get?" he asked.

"I got five in total. Got one left, now." she informed him before immediately turning defensive.

The Nord shrugged. "Well, thanks for the sweetroll, but why for breakfast?"

"Just eat it, dumbass."

The Nord, once again, shrugged before biting into the delicious pastry. Ah...the last time he had one was back in Morrowind, during the times that he had a break from helping a bunch of random people with their own dumb problems that they themselves could have solved but didn't for some ridiculous reason.

But hey, that's why he was the Nerevarine.

"Come on. We should head off." Lysara informed him, mounting Shadowmere.

"Um, are you sure we should leave without eating the last sweetroll? I hear that if you have one on your person, you'll get attacked by three people for it." Ansgar responded, taking another bite of the sweetroll before mounting Foxy.

"That's just a rumor. It's not actually gonna happen!"

* * *

"Come on, you can't stay depressed forever! It was just one sweetroll!" Ansgar reasoned with Lysara, who honestly looked to be at the brink of tears.

"Still! I didn't think we...I would actually get attacked by three thugs for it! I thought it was just a rumor..." she responded.

"Well, rumors can be true. They can also be false. Who knows?"

"...that doesn't help my situation, Ansgar."

The Nord shrugged in defeat. "Hey, I tried. How about this: when we start heading back to the Priory, we can go through Skingrad and you can get yourself some more?" he suggested.

"But-!" Lysara began before she cut herself off. They could see the large walls of Kvatch now, but the burned trees and smoke seemed a bit too out of place. Up ahead on the road, an Altmer, Hirtel, was making his way straight towards them. When he reached them, Lysara had to really tug on Shadowmere's reins just so that the said horse wouldn't end up running the Altmer over.

"Come on! Run while there's still time!" he yelled, appearing to be terrified. His fear was in a sense that wasn't all that dissimilar from Foxy's earlier expression when Shadowmere had been scaring her, which was wrong since he's an Altmer and she's a horse. "The Guard still holds the road, but it's only a matter of time before they're overwhelmed!"

"Wait, what the hell are you on about?" Lysara asked him as she got off of Shadowmere.

"Gods' blood, you don't know, do you?" he asked, surprised. "Daedra overran Kvatch last night!"

"What!" Ansgar yelled out.

"There were glowing portals outside the walls! Gates to Oblivion itself!" he continued. "There was a huge creature... something out of a nightmare... came right over the walls... blasting fire. They swarmed around it... killing..." he tried to explain, but he just couldn't.

_Whoa...that bad, huh?_, Lysara thought. "There's no way the entire city is gone."

"Go and see for yourself! Kvatch is a smoking ruin! We're all that's left, do you understand me? Everyone else is dead!" he exclaimed in terror, grabbing Lysara's shoulders and shaking her back and forth. She literally punched Hirtel down just so he could let go.

"Well, how did you get out, then?" Ansgar asked him, getting down from Foxy and helping him stand up.

"It was Savlian Matius... some of the other guards... helped some of us escape... they cut their way out, right through the city gates. Savlian says they can hold the road. No... no, I don't believe him! Nothing can stop them! If you'd seen it, you'd know!" he screamed in fear.

"Well, we didn't see it!" Lysara pointed out in frustration.

Hirtel ignored her response. "I'm getting out of here before it's too late! They'll be here any minute, I'm telling you. Run while you can!" he told them before sprinting right past them, not looking like he would slow down anytime soon.

"Wait!" Lysara yelled out. "Do you know Martin?"

The fear-driven Altmer turned around quickly. "I knew a priest named Martin once. I'm sure he's dead, just like the rest of them. They're all dead, don't you understand? It's pointless!" he yelled hysterically before continuing on his way.

"Huh...that was weird." Lysara quipped as she watched him run down the road.

"Damn it, we shouldn't have rested in Skingrad!" Ansgar pointed out.

"Well, it's too late now. Let's go see what the hell happened." Lysara answered.

When they reached the encampment area, they decided to leave their horses and proceed on foot. They were just about through with the path to Kvatch when the sound of thunder interrupted whatever thoughts they were currently having.

Lysara stopped, confused. Looking all around her, she saw that it had grown darker.

And redder.

"Lysara..." Ansgar said, staring at the sky with wide eyes. Lysara followed his gaze.

The sky had turned crimson. Thick, vein-like lines of sanguine red clung onto its darkened vastness, like some sort of sick, abnormal growth.

Suddenly, Lysara had a very bad feeling about all of this. "Oh, no. Ansgar, let's hurry!" she told the Nord before running on ahead. The said man immediately followed her.

They reached the the top of the hill in a few moments. Several barricades prevented a completely open path to the city, or in this case, to the encampment at the bottom of the hill. Whatever trees existed near the city gates in the past were most definitely gone now. The area in its current state would have been the exact embodiment of hell, had there been lava, which there probably was earlier, or at least something similar to it. A huge portal that seemed to have been hell-sent and set aflame stood in front of the city gates, blocking it off altogether.

A Gate to Oblivion.

Lysara recognized the shape of the gate. It was the Daedric letter for "O."

"_Oht_..." Lysara whispered upon seeing the gate.

Ansgar heard her whisper. Confused, he turned to her. "What?"

Lysara faced him, appearing to be a little bit surprised that he heard her. "Huh? Oh...it's nothing." she said, looking away sadly.

Ansgar remained confused, but decided not to inquire further. The two of them simply stood there and watched as the remnants of the Kvatch City Guard dealt with the Daedra that emerged from the gate. The Daedra were dealt with rather quickly, much to Lysara's surprise, and the city guards walked back to where they were previously standing. One of them, Savlian Matius, approached the two.

"Stand back, civilians." he stated. "This place isn't safe. Head back to the encampment at once!"

Lysara could only stare at the glowing gate in shock and awe as she spoke to him. "Good Gods, what the hell happened!"

"What happened?" Savlian asked. "We lost the whole gods' damned city, that's what happened! We were caught completely off-guard and we couldn't even get everyone out! The Count and his men are still holed up in the castle, and more civilians are trapped in the Chapel. Now, we can't even get into the city with that gods' forsaken gate in the way!"

Ansgar then remembered what Hirtel told them. "Can the gates be closed?" he asked. If he heard that Altmer correctly, there were more gates last night. But now, there was only one. That means...

"They can, since the earlier ones were, but we can't risk any more guards to close the gate. We already sent a few in, but that was a few hours ago!" Savlian responded.

"What are you going to do, then?" Ansgar asked him. Lysara remained focused on the Oblivion Gate.

"The only thing we can do." Savlian replied, his expression turning solemn, serious. "We'll try to hold our own for as long as we can. If we fail now, those bastards could head straight down to the encampment below! We have to protect the survivors. It's all we can do now."

"Uh, by any chance, do you know someone named Martin?" the Nord asked, doubting that this was a reasonable question to ask in the current situation.

Savlian looked a bit taken back. "You mean the priest? When I last saw him, he was leading a small group to the Chapel of Akatosh. If he's lucky, he's trapped in there with the rest of them. But if he's not..."

"Get out of my way!" Lysara interrupted, shoving Savlian down before jumping over the first set of barricades with surprising ease. She began sprinting to the gate.

"You're going in? Are you insane?" Savlian yelled after her.

"Lysara, don't!" Ansgar cried out.

The Breton ignored them. She really didn't want to rely on _ifs_ or _buts_ right now. Barreling straight towards the Gate, she dived through it...and disappeared.

"By Ysmir, dammit..." Ansgar muttered before running after her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Again, I apologize if you didn't enjoy this chapter. Don't worry; I didn't either.

In fact, there's a pretty good chance that I am going to rewrite this.

Was there actually smoke coming up from Kvatch? I can't remember...oh, well. I'll just leave it in.

These Author's Notes are getting big.

Didn't it strike you as odd that when you see an Oblivion Gate and then have your character literally leap through it, nothing happens? You actually have to activate it just to go through? It pisses me off so much!

Seriously, what sounds scarier: Prince of Destruction or King of Rape? Seriously?

Is it just me, or is Lysara sounding more and more like a bitch as the story progresses?

Isn't it fun to make shout-outs to things in the past? Whoever can guess where the shout-out was in this chapter and what it was for gets cookies!

Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know. Seriously, though. I did not proofread this at all when I finished, so...

And now, in an attempt to make up for the crappy chapter, here's a little thing I wrote that I intend to use in the future for this fanfic! Interpret it as you'd like:

_At the summit of the rock of a being's demise_

_who is the stars of one's magic forever lost._

_Below where all things repeat with this voice of Mine._

_A mongrel's tooth is gone; fallen rocks are the truth,  
_

_And a gate to another world is also gone._

_Yet despite being gone of an endless supply of energy._

_it caps a chief capital of its creator.  
_

_Two corners shall meet: a fallen pride and an eccentric whole  
_

_And X shall mark the spot as you play fate to go and take me._

_For I shall become the dark and wield a sword named shadow._

Cookies for whoever can interpret that correctly!

* * *

_Well, while you're still here, I have some other stories to recommend. _

_Check out to _**Kathi With An I**_'s story Unlikely Heroes! Like my story, even though hers came out first, it uses two main characters. She does a better job at it; Ivar is awesome. You should read it! Seriously, it's way awesome! Read it! Like, right now!  
_

_Also, see _**melliemellie**_'s story Unknown! It adds, in my opinion, an interesting and welcome twist to the main quest of Oblivion! Check it out now!_


	6. Beyond Which No Waking Eye May See

**Author's Note:** Hello! Hello there! This is harari24, freaking finally back with the next installment of _A Sword Named Shadow_!

Yes, I know, it's been a while since I last posted. I really have no excuse for that, except for the fact that I have (been procrastinating on) homework and I got back into playing Assassin's Creed. My brother and I call it Ass Creed for the point of convenience and hilarity.

Odd. I'm updating a chapter of my Elder Scrolls fanfic and yet here I am talking about Ass Creed.

Main problem is still school, though. Damn school.

Seriously, kids, don't get into the habit of procrastinating on homework. If you do, I promise, it will screw you over in the future.

Also, if you haven't figured it out already, school started. I am now officially a 9th grader and I'm bored during every minute of it. I really shouldn't be, but I am. Now to get to the stuff that's actually related to this story...

Ooh, now I have a beautiful story cover and an extra sentence in the summary! _Well, it's not that beautiful..._

I'm having a lot of trouble with Ansgar's character. I'm really not liking him right now. Damn it all to hell...as much as I want to kill him off now, he's already here, so it's too late. I'm also in no place to change his personality, either...

Yep, seems like a revamp is in order.

Well, I probably should have brought this up way back in the prologue, but _A Sword Named Shadow_ will be a very, very, _veerry_ slow-moving story. As in, I will purposely stall the Main Quest with the other Guild Lines and Miscellaneous Quests. In all honesty, I did have a lot of fun playing the main quest, but I find it really hard to write about! I seriously think that, assuming that I don't put this story on hiatus (there's always that chance, just look at my other story. That's been on unofficial hiatus for nearly two years. I reread it. It kinda sucks), the story will most likely exceed 50 chapters. I don't know, though. I'm usually wrong with these estimates.

In fact, it'll probably be _way_ more than that.

So, like I said, I will purposely stall the Main Quest with the other Guild Lines and Miscellaneous Quests. And that original arc. Ooh, I can't wait for that! You guys will definitely like that original arc, so please stick around!

Also, the first _really big_ swear is in this chapter, right around the beginning. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**Reviews to Answer:  
**

Frenetic-Kinetic: Whoa! Hello there! I'm really, like, happy right now because of all of your reviews, so excuse me for my being hyper in this answer to them.  
I guess there probably should be a bit of clearing up: Lysara is the person who _kills_ the Bosmer in Vindasel. The Bosmer's real name is Lenwin.  
I really hate writer's block. Bleh...  
Yeah, I know. Ansgar isn't turning the way I thought he would. I'm working on it, I swear.  
Thank you for sticking with this story so far.

melliemellie: You're welcome!  
Yeah, I think I screwed up with Ansgar. It was a good idea at first. I probably should have worked on his character and planned it out before I got the story going. A bit too late now, though.  
Thank you!

as-sh: I know, I was confused with the whole guest review thing as well. But I think it's better now.  
And you get cookies for knowing the shout-out! Congrats, congrats!  
Ah, so you don't get that thing in the end? Good! Thank you!  
You know what, thinking back on it, I probably won't use that thing at the end of the previous chapter. As unique as it is, it just can't work. I'll remove it when I get around to revamping.  
..._if_ I ever get around to revamping.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or its characters in any way. I only own my OCs. Enjoy.

* * *

_**A Sword Named Shadow**_

**Chapter 5:**

**Beyond Which No Waking Eye May See  
**

_Who are you, they who wander so far into a nightmare unending for a reason that even they are unsure of?  
_

* * *

Somehow, the thought of her own face crashing into the ground as a result of diving through the gate never occurred to Lysara.

To be fair, at least she fell to the ground and not into the lava.

"Fuck!" she swore loudly, standing up and rubbing her face. Good gods, that ground was a lot harder than it looked. It was then that Lysara took notice of her surroundings.

Before her was a red world. Up ahead was a bridge with a War Gate seated right in front of it, making it impossible to see from a distance what was on the other side of the bridge. Running underneath it was molten lava, the heat from which could be felt from where she was standing. The ground was rocky and cracked, looking as if it would split open beneath her feet and lava would spill out at any moment. Ruins-like structures were scattered all over said terrain, and black, claw-like structures poked out from the ground and lava, the tips red as if they were covered in blood. In the distance, two dark towers stood there, evil and taunting, almost beckoning in a sick way.

Now, one would think that a world whose appearance was like that of the interior of a giant volcano would have ground that was more, er, soot-like. Maybe sand-like or in pebbles, at the least. Though clearly, it wasn't. Having her face crash into that ground was like getting punched by an incredibly and almost unreasonably drunk Nord or an extremely pissed-off Redguard, except it wasn't a fist hitting unprotected face; it was rock.

Really, really hard and painful rock.

At the sound of whirling and scraping stones, Lysara turned around just in time to duck, dodging the dozens of fist and head sized stones grouped together, making it a stretch to call a fist. Then again, it was a Storm Atronach.

_I guess getting punched by _that_ fist would probably hurt way more_, Lysara thought to herself, grimacing. Unsheathing her steel shortsword, Lysara jumped to the right and attempted to pierce the Atronach's bright core. Her sword, however, bounced harmlessly off of the rocks that were acting as the core's barrier, and the Breton found herself flying face-first into the ground upon a strike from the Atronach's fist.

Groaning, Lysara stabbed her sword into the ground and attempted to use it to lift herself back up. After several tries, she simply stopped trying and waited for the Atronach to come to her.

It never got the chance. A man's battle cry was heard before the smaller, more pointed back-end of a Silver War Axe poked out of the Storm Atronach's core. After a few second, the mass of stones crumbled and collapsed into a heap of lesser rocks, revealing the middle-aged Nord man that the weapon belonged to.

Ansgar put the war axe away before walking up the the sitting Breton. "Welcome to the Deadlands." he told her, extending a hand.

She took it and pulled herself back into a standing position. "Yay, as if I want to be here..."

"Don't forget, we're here because we need to get to Martin, which we can't do with this gate in the way." Lysara reached for her sword and pulled it from the ground, sliding it back into its sheath. "You're not very good at fighting, are you?" Ansgar suddenly asked her as she dusted herself off.

The Breton turned to him. "I specialize in a...different kind of fighting style. Also, I haven't had a decent fight in while. "

"It's been three years since I've had a decent fight."

"I'm 27."

"And I'm 45."

Ignoring Ansgar's response, she turned and made her way to the War Gate. "Oh, dear..." she commented quietly as she peered through the thin opening. "Um, Ansgar?"

Ansgar walked over and peered over her head to look through the remaining space. "That looks like the entire unit that was sent in." Ansgar noted.

"They only sent in three people?"

He shrugged. "I...guess."

"Why did they only send three? Are they idiots?"

"You do realize that most of the City Guard was probably slaughtered before this gate was the last one open, right?"

"Yes, but three?"

Then, not far from where they were, the sound of a man yelling in battle was heard. The two turned to the direction the sound came from. "Maybe they sent four," Ansgar began, "but it isn't going to matter if that guy is dead by the time we get there."

The Breton nodded before they both ran to the source of the sound.

* * *

"Thank the Nine! I never thought I'd see another friendly face..." the man now seated on the ground breathed out, exasperated and very much relieved. He was an Imperial, by the looks of it. The cloth covering his Kvatch City Guard cuirass was torn in several places, revealing the chain-mail underneath that also wasn't in the best of conditions. His sword was stabbed through the ground and the cracks on the blade of it indicated that it wouldn't be long before the weapon shattered.

It was no surprise to the both of them, considering he had just battled against two Xivilai and a Spider Deadra.

What was even more amazing to them was that the man had survived the encounter.

Granted, they had helped him, but still.

Lysara extended an arm and helped the man stand. "It's alright. What happened?"

The man stuttered, still at a loss and unable to grasp everything that had occurred. "The others...taken...they were taken to the tower! We-we were..."

"Hey, hey, calm down," Lysara interrupted, "You're alright now. Just explain what happened. You are one of the men that Matius sent in, yes?"

"Yes, my name is Ilend Vonius," The Imperial began, relaxing as best as a man standing in hell could. "The Captain sent us in to try and close the gate, but we were ambushed the moment we were halfway across that bridge!" He pointed to the bridge that the Breton and Nord had been standing next to moments ago, peering through the opening of the first War Gate.

_That explains all the bodies_, Lysara thought as she stared at the War Gate from where she stood.

"Only two of us escaped the trap. I managed to get out through the first War Gate. Menien made it out through the second gate, but I saw him get caught soon after. I think they took him to the tower! Yes, the tower! You must save him!" Ilend pleaded.

Both Lysara and Ansgar stared up at the towers that Ilend spoke of. Menien had to be in one of them. The problem was which one?

After a bit of contemplation, Ansgar turned to the frightened Imperial. "Get back to the barricade. Matius could use the help." he told him.

The Imperial stared. "The Captain is still out there? I figured I was the only one still alive!"

"Yep, he's still out there! Him and two others who could really use a hand!" Lysara informed him.

The Imperial nodded. "Alright. I'm getting out of here. But you will save Menien?" he asked them, giving a somewhat uneasy look to the two of them. Lysara and Ansgar turned to each other. It was clear that Ansgar wasn't sure if they would be able to save him, but Lysara was going to have none of that.

The Breton turned to Ilend. "I promise."

Not batting a second glance, Ilend turned and sprinted towards the Gate that led back to Tamriel. Once he was gone, Lysara turned to the Nord. "Why did you send him back?"

Ansgar answered without looking at her. "He's seen enough of Oblivion to cover a lifetime. He would do better out there, away from all of this."

"You talk as if you've seen it, too." Lysara remarked.

The Nord shook his head. "This is the first time I have stepped foot into the Oblivion. I've just dealt with forces related to it before." he told her before continuing on his way.

Lysara just stood there, looking at him. "Just who the hell are you?" she asked him as she kept a reasonable pace behind him.

Ansgar didn't respond.

* * *

"What the hell was that back there?" Lysara yelled out, angrily attempting to treat her wounds while simultaneously struggling to open a health potion.

Ansgar winced at the volume of her scream. Boy, did she have a pair of lungs. "You're the idiot who walked up to it and tried to grab it."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the plant would _attack_ me? May I remind you that I've never been here before, Ansgar?" Lysara countered, bandaging her right arm.

"That's not the point. _Why_ did you try to grab it in the first place?" Ansgar asked her, taking the potion and opening it for her as she was clearly having enough trouble with her wounds.

Lysara took the potion from him and downed it all in one gulp before shuddering at its awful flavor and throwing the empty bottle over her shoulder. "My sister likes alchemical ingredients." she informed him, ignoring the loud crash that was the empty potion bottle shattering some ways behind her.

"Have you considered the chance that it could also attack her when you give it to her?" Ansgar asked.

"Well, it isn't attacking me anymore, so I don't think it will." she answered, holding out the now unmoving severed piece of the Harrada root she had managed to rip off during that earlier fiasco. She pocketed the root as they stopped before the large tower.

"Well, we're here. It took two sets of gauntlets, a Steel Helmet, an Iron Shield, an unreasonable amount of time, and you getting pissed off, but we're finally here." Ansgar said, exhausted and sighing at the loss of his gauntlets and helmet. Lysara, missing her own set of gauntlets and shield, walked up to the door of the first tower.

"Yeah, it can't possibly get any worse now. What's next, physics-defying architecture?

The door had a large red _Oht_ imprinted in the middle and the frame itself had more crimson Daedric symbols inscribed in it. The Breton walked closer to the door and squinted at the glowing symbols. "_Oht_..._Bedt_..._Lyr_, _Iya_, _Vehk_..._Iya, Oht_, _Neht_...Ob-Oblivion..."

The Nord turned to her, confused. "You can read that?"

"It's a Daedric _Alphabet_, not a Daedric _Language_." she pointed out.

"I know that already."

The Breton ignored him. "Oddly enough, it can be directly transliterated into the Cyrodiilic Alphabet to actually_ mean_ something in Cyrodiilic." Lysara remarked, her eyes still studying the symbols. "_Iya_..._Tayem_, _Seht_...oh, what was the point of that? Those words don't mean anything!"

"What's it say?"

"_Oblivion Awaits_."

"It's a taunt," Ansgar told her simply, walking up to the door before placing a hand on it. "Dagon is trying to scare us. We can't let him."

Ansgar pushed the door open and Lysara squinted at the blinding column of fire shooting through the ceiling in the middle of the room.

* * *

"Unbelievable. You have got to be kidding me."

"You guessed it. There's your 'physics-defying architecture' for you."

"I was just joking, dammit!" Lysara told him, staring at the thin stone bridge in disbelief. How the hell _was_ the bridge able to be built _so far up_?

"You know what they say. 'Be careful what you wish for...you just might get it.'" Ansgar informed her.

"Shut up!"

They stood there at the far end of the bridge for a few moments. "Well?" Ansgar began. "Just cross. There is a city out there that really need this gate closed."

"I am not crossing that bridge." Lysara stated, firm with her choice.

Ansgar would have none of that. Instead, he reached around her waist, unsheathed her own iron sword, and swiftly pointed it at the back of her head. Her hands immediately shot up in defense, even though the sword was behind her.

"Cross." he ordered.

"Okay, okay! You don't have to threaten my life!" she yelled, taking a few steps forward. "I'm threatened enough in this place. By the way, if I fall, you're paying for my funeral."

"Fine by me. Move." Ansgar lowered the sword and followed her. After a few moments, she lowered her arms and Ansgar gave her sword back.

"I really wish you didn't do that." Lysara complained over her shoulder as she warily inched across the bridge. "All you had to do was yell at me a bit more."

"Believe me, you wouldn't have moved if I hadn't. Besides, I'm more than willing to bet that the Dremora down there were starting to get a bit wary of us standing in place on a bridge." The middle-aged Nord reasoned.

"Hell, I'm surprised they didn't even try shoot-"

"Don't finish that sentence. You already jinxed us with the thin bridge." Ansgar interrupted.

"Sorry."

They reached the other side of the bridge and Lysara slid the door open. The first thing that they saw was a hanging, rotting corpse.

"...delish." Lysara remarked, cringing at the corpse. Ansgar wrinkled his face, trying his hardest to shield that fact that he had become nauseous. Their temporary sickened trance was broken when a loud, almost desperate cry for them was heard.

"In the cage! _Over here_!" a man called.

The Breton and the Nord instantly disregarded the corpse and ran up the curving, rising walkway to the top, where they were attacked by a Dremora. Ansgar pulled out his war axe and blocked the Dremora's mace before cleverly trapping it between the inner part of the axe head and the shoulder to disarm it, allowing Lysara to rush in for the kill.

Lysara turned to the man in the bloody cage who was bracing himself. "Are you Menien?" she asked, walking up to the cage.

The man shook his head vigorously, an almost hysterical look in his eyes. "No, no, there's no time! You need to get to the large tower, up to the top, to the Sigil Keep! The Sigil Stone is anchoring the gate! Remove it and the gate will close! The keeper has the key, you need the key to get there!"

Lysara looked over her shoulder to see that Ansgar had already lifted the said key from the dead Dremora. She turned back to the cage and started looking around it for a keyhole or something to open the cage. Then, she grabbed a hold of the bars and tried to pull them apart.

"Lysara, what are you doing?" Ansgar asked.

"I promised I would get Menien out, so I'm trying to get him out!" she yelled, her voice strained as she pulled at the unrelenting bars.

The trapped Imperial shook his head before grabbing her wrists, stopping her efforts. "No, you must hurry! Head to the Sigil Keep and close this place! Leave me! Go! Go, now!"

Ansgar immediately ran up to the Breton who was desperate to free the man and grabbed her by the shoulder, forcing her to run with him. She screamed as she looked back at the desolate Imperial trapped forever.

"No! I promised I would get him out! Let me go!"

"Lysara! Stop!"

"I promised!" she yelled one last time as they reached the door and went back across the bridge.

She had broken her promise, and Lysara had a feeling that there would be a lot that she wouldn't be able to keep from now on.

* * *

The Sigillum Sanguis may have been one of the most disgusting rooms that Lysara had ever laid eyes on. At least, the floor was pretty gross. Even before they entered it, the room's fleshy floor that appeared to be made of extremely large human muscles was in plain sight as the two made the rest of the way up the Blood Feast. The hallway right outside of the Sigillum Sanguis wasn't as bad; only molten rock. Inside of the room, the column of fire from the room they had first entered went up past the floor to a spot at the very top of the room. Black claws the same in appearance to those outside of the keep acted as stairs to a higher area, from which walkways similar to the floor allowed access to the top.

Lysara glanced around, her eyes stopping on the Daedric letter that ran along the bottom of the wall. "Mehrunes Dagon beckons...?" she translated, completely oblivious to the bloody battle behind her that Ansgar was being forced to fight alone.

"Lysara!" he yelled, jumping and barely escaping a Dremora's lightning spell.

"What does that even mean? We're in the room anchoring the gate open. Why would he beckon?" she asked herself, tilting her head as she continued to stare intently at the glowing Daedric symbols.

"Dammit, Lysara!" he yelled again, running right past her in an attempt to escape the Dremora who had broken his battle axe with the original intention of smashing his head in with a mace.

"Maybe he means-"

"LYSARA!" he screamed, to which she turned around just in time to dodge the spell from one of the Dremora mages.

"Oh, dammit!" she cursed, unsheathing her sword and swiping at an attacking Clannfear. It jumped away before releasing a piercing scream and tackling her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her.

She kicked it off and stabbed its torso. "Ansgar! Go up!" she yelled amidst the hectic attack. She barreled to the stairway and ran up the claws to the second floor of the room. She quickly glanced over her shoulder and saw that Ansgar wasn't far behind her with dozens of Daedra right on his tail. Lysara sprinted up the walkway to the top of the room where the column of fire ended. There, floating on the very top of the fire, was the Sigil Stone.

"Come on!" The Breton yelled to Ansgar. Not waiting for a response, she ran straight for the stone and leapt, hands outstretched to grab it. She deftly lifted the Sigil Stone off of the column and soon realized she was falling. She turned around midair to see that Ansgar had jumped after her, just in time for the fire that had suddenly shot through the ceiling to narrowly miss him. He was reaching for her.

His hand touched the Sigil Stone just as a blinding light engulfed them both.

* * *

Whatever momentum they previously gained as they fell had stayed with them when both were flung out of the Oblivion Gate, which closed behind them with a reddish light shooting skyward. All that was left of the gate was the black rock that had framed it. The sky was no longer a hostile crimson. It was just rainclouds now.

Lysara came out first, landing on her side and rolling before coming to a stop on her back. She stared at the sky with a surprised look, the Sigil Stone clutched tightly in her hands.

Ansgar was next, crashing into the ground face-first and rolling forward, landing on his back with a loud _thud_. He coughed several times as he struggled to sit.

"Lysara? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"...yeah. I think so."

The Nord rose to his feet and walked to the Breton, helping her stand. She still had a death grip on the Sigil Stone, a look of surprise remained plastered on her face, but her exhaustion from seeing Oblivion had become very clear.

Ansgar frowned at that. Without a doubt, that exhaustion would follow her to the grave.

"Come on," he told her, laying a hand on her armored shoulder. "We still have an heir to save."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Remember, in the fourth installment, when I said that other questlines were going to really start up around this chapter? Well, I miscalculated. My bet now is actually around Chapter 10 or 11, but even that feels wrong...

This chapter was not fun to write. It was not fun to write. It was not fun to write.

I think I'll get my groove back once the other questlines start up. I really like the Fighters' Guild. That was so fun.

The frame around the doors into the towers really do say "_Oblivion Awaits_." The words that lined the edges of the room called the Sigillum Sanguis really do say "_Mehrunes Dagon Beckons_." The large vertical stones that hold up the bridge that the two War Gates are on say "_Here is No, There is No_." (Can anyone make sense of that line?) Does going out of my way to find out what they mean by personally translating them make me creative or obsessive?

Probably obsessive.

I really do plan on revamping these earlier chapters, just not now. I am also considering putting a new OC into the mix just so I can have an excuse to put the Arena questline and the Knights of the Nine storyline in (not that I need to, but I kinda want to.) Do note that creating a new OC will require me to revamp the prologue and allow me to fix up Ansgar's character (or, at least try to. I doubt it will turn out well), but will take a very long time to update, assuming that I actually get around to it. Thoughts?

I promise, I'll start shortening these Author's Notes.

Reviews and constructive criticism would be most appreciated. If there are any mistakes in punctuation, spelling, grammar, lore...please, let me know.  
Seriously, since I really wanted to post this because it's been so long since I updated it, I would really appreciate corrections in spelling and grammar. I barely looked over it.

* * *

_While you guys are still here, I have an important announcement:_

_There is a poll on my profile relating to this story. I have had it up for a very long time and it has to do with the inclusion of one more OC to this story._

_I plan on having him/her to be an Imperial who has a mace as a weapon of choice. They will be completing the Arena and the KotN Questline.  
If male, their name will be Aetius Hateria.  
If female, their name will be Sabrin Hateria._

_With that said, it would be very much appreciated if you went and did that poll. _

_Seriously, only two people have voted and we're still at a freaking stalemate. You can't see it, but it's true. Trust me.  
_

_Thank you. Please review! And fave! And follow!  
_


End file.
